Naïve is particularly proud to release the first recording from the orchestra recently founded by conductor Mathieu Herzog: Ensemble Appassionato. A favorite composer for the orchestra, who other than Mozart to bear witness to the recording debut from this ensemble? An ensemble born under the most auspicious circumstances, full of members from France’s major string quartets. The last three symphonies, a triptych as monumental as it is mysterious - we know almost nothing about the circumstances surrounding their composition - are probably the works that best symbolize the projects thus far of Mathieu Herzog and the Ensemble Appassionato. Their fresh vision, modern and chamber-like, plus a multitude of eclectic repertoire. A vision galvanized by the desire to share music with everyone. Listening to this recording nourished with as much passion and ambition as respect and humility, a more human and personified Mozart appears before us, more luminous than ever. Clear timbres, instrumental cohesion, balance, well-rounded characters, full-bodied tempi ... Mathieu Herzog demonstrates here a vision and an inherent know-how, placing him immediately in the pantheon of great conductors.

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REVIEW:

At root, these are modern-instrument performances that digest the historical discoveries of our time and offer a full-bodied chamber presentation. These three performances are, in their own ways, individual, minutely considered and thus, perhaps inevitably, not to every taste. The ensemble sound, however, is one of the glories of this set. As chamber players and therefore soloists in their own rights, the contribution of each player is palpable.

– Gramophone

The Ensemble Concertant regularly celebrates great successes with it's extraordinary instrumental forces. Since George Onslow alone dedicated dozens of works to the string quartet plus double bass, the ensemble has espoused the music of this Anglo- French composer with special interest. MDG is now presenting a special edition of two long sold-out albums at an attractive price with works including the Piano Sextet, a concerto en miniature that took the Parisian salons by storm. Onslow composed the Piano Quintet op. 79bis during the middle years of the nineteenth century- when he was at the height of his popularity- in the famous and just as rare "Trout Quintet" instrumentation with double bass. However, Onslow pursued a path different from that of Schubert; here the virtuosity of the piano with it's leaps, arpeggios, scales, octaves, and other daring technical deeds let's the other instruments know who is the boss. The Quintets for String Quartet and Double Bass- so to speak, Onslow's specialty- reveal a master situated between classicism and romanticism. Marvelously sumptuous melodies in classical form breathe the romantic spirit but refrain from virtuosity for mere show. Instead, the works go straight to the heart and make it beat to the big sound supplied by the double bass and it's profound foundation.

BEETHOVEN Piano Sonata Nos. 1; 2; 3; 28; 29, “Hammerklavier” • Paavali Jumppanen (pn) • ONDINE 1248 (2 CDs: 143:37)


It has become a fairly common practice to program very early and very late Beethoven on the same recital. The purpose is obvious, but always useful; to compare and contrast the evolution of Beethoven’s style. Some pianists will point to the differences more starkly by emphasizing the strong Classical roots of the three opus 2 sonatas, as compared to the mystical Romanticism of the mighty final sonatas, including the massive “Hammerklavier.” The young Finnish pianist Paavali Jumppanen opts for an approach that seeks the commonality in the music, extracting kernels of that mysticism in the first sonatas, and emphasizing the Classical beauty and structure that still resides in the sprawling worlds of late Beethoven.


Jumppanen enhances this sense with generally leisurely tempos, which allow him to render textures with alluring clarity and balance, as well as pearly tone. The gentle pace of his playing is significant, because it flies in the face of the historicists who are keen to observe the metronome markings that Beethoven meticulously applied to his works, even years after they were composed (the metronome was patented in 1815). I am not one of those reviewers who normally lists competing timings, but in the case of Jumppanen’s “Hammerklavier” first movement, for example, the numbers are striking. He clocks in at 12: 08. No pianist in my collection comes close to such a crawl. Richter, 10: 35. Ashkenazy, 10:40. Horszowski, 11:39. Taub, 9:12. And the speed king, Schnabel, who attempts to hit the metronome marking of the composer, a remarkable 8:45.


These are not performances that carefully avoid the infusion of the performer’s personality. Jumppanen puts a certain gloss on the music that historically minded listeners might find off-putting, as I normally would. I also generally prefer this music a bit on the brisk side, although it is silly to expect performers to slavishly follow the metronome markings, which, for any number of reasons (and mere speculation) may not be accurate. But there is no denying the beauty of this playing. Jumppanen is no cookie-cutter pianist, and if my caveats do not bother you, there is much to enjoy here. Ondine’s beautiful recorded sound is no little bonus.


FANFARE: Peter Burwasser

Performing the music of Mozart is like trying to tell a story everyone knows and has heard many times as if it were the very first time it has been told. It is a combination of musical pleasure and a wealth of variation in it's execution. The Concerto for violin nr. 3 in G major was composed in Salzburg in 1775, when Mozart was 19 years of age. We know from his letters that Mozart dreaded the first performance of the work by Concert Master Antonio Brunetti, who, according to Mozart was a blunt, reeking, mediocre violinist. He was however, greatly relieved when Frans Xaver Kolb performed the premiere instead. Kolb was a considerably more accomplished (and probably less offensive-smelling) violinist. The G major Concerto has always been a personal favorite of mine, and together with Rebaroque, I consider it a privilege to make it "ours," To tell, with our own eyes, ears and Jonas Dominique's fantastic wind arrangements, such a beautiful and moving story as this.

Vladimir Feltsman has a long-established reputation as a major artist. His 1987 arrival in the United States (after a seven-year shutdown of his career by Soviet authorities) was greeted with loud huzzahs. His first American recital took place at the White House, and his ensuing Carnegie Hall debut was recorded in its entirety. His repertoire covers everything from Bach through the 20th century. Recording first for Melodiya, then for Sony, then Camerata, he has now made a great many recordings for Nimbus since 2008.


These seem to be Feltsman’s first recordings of Haydn; his readings are very personal, as if he were trying to be different from every other performance or recording. There are many unmarked and unexpected tempo changes, some amounting to Luftpausen more appropriate to mid-19th-century music. Such playing can be either invigorating in its freshness or cloying in its fussiness; it would no doubt upset period practice purists. As a long-time lover of conductor Willem Mengelberg’s erratic ways, I would expect to be open to Feltsman’s performances, but I can be invigorated and exasperated by the same passage on succeeding days. I am bothered by Feltsman’s wildly inconsistent playing of the C-Minor Sonata, but maybe that’s just me: I have never been satisfied with any performance and am not even sure what I want from this often recorded piece. The only pianist to come close is Youri Egorov, yet I cannot cite anything special in his recording; he just plays it straight, offering no special insight.


I listen again as I write this, and I continue to be disturbed by the dichotomy: Such magnificent pianism takes the breath away, yet such inappropriate music-making almost loses Haydn. Then comes the opening Presto of the E-Minor Sonata: Feltsman understands well that the vibrancy of a Presto is never based on speed alone. Every mark in the score is faithfully observed, the clarity and sheer life of the playing are inimitable; there is only one slight slowdown at an internal cadence, and a thrilling virtuoso flourish—lasting less than a second—is tossed into the second repeat. I could keep, and recommend, this two-CD set for this one track. But the following Adagio is filled with bluster and virtuoso posturing (in his program notes, Feltsman calls it “elaborate ornamentation in the manner of C.P.E. Bach.”), and the final Vivace molto wanders fitfully, searching in vain for its true character. So it goes throughout both discs. Listening again to the C-Minor Sonata, Feltsman produces a lovely, yearning character in the opening measures, but after a minute or so his odd phrasings, unexpected pauses, and sudden violent attacks spoil the mood.


The opening Andante con espressione of the C-Major Sonata is fascinating here. Feltsman’s left hand is leonine, like nothing since Cliburn. But a cutesy twist of the three chords in measure nine breaks the spell before it has a chance settle in. In the Presto , there is an awkward moment during the repeat of measure 17 (at 0:37) that sounds like a too-tight edit, cutting a fraction of a second from the music. Nimbus’s trademark reverberance is too much for this tempo, blurring what seems to be pristine pianism. The Eb Variations are gentle, subtle music, and Feltsman has a strong feeling for them. There is not a single virtuoso excess in its 17 minutes.


It’s clear that Feltsman can do anything he wants at the keyboard, and do it better than almost anyone else. One constantly receives the impression that one is listening to a dominant artist. But his style of playing generally does not suit Haydn—Sviatoslav Richter could get away with it because he was so sensitive to every type of music. It works on and off for Feltsman. I equate his playing with Nimbus’s recorded sound: both are brilliant but overdone, too glittering, too shiny. Has any piano ever sounded this bright, with a tiny halo around every note? The results are not for me, but that doesn’t mean they may not be for you. What I do recommend is that every piano lover hear these performances.


Postscript : The package is a single-CD-sized jewel case, but the swinging inner tray fell out every time I opened it. It’s long past time to abandon the fragile jewel case.

FANFARE: James H. North

A strong contender as an introduction to some wonderful music.

There are two ways to obtain the complete Haydn symphonies: a third set on Sony, conducted by Dennis Russell Davies seems no longer to be generally available in the UK, even as a download.

One was made some time ago by Antal Doráti with the Philharmonia Hungarica (Decca 448 5312, 33 CDs). From this set only the Paris Symphonies seem currently to be separately available (Decca E473 8102) and, at prices ranging from around £165 to £195 – even more, £352.15, for the download from hmvdigital.com – buying the whole thing may be something of a daunting proposition. Even as a download, only that Paris set, two Double Decca sets of the London Symphonies and a Decca Eloquence recording of Nos. 94, 100 and 101 remain available separately. These are fine performances of which I can speak from personal experience, having owned several of them on LP; I still have and regularly play some of the smaller CD sets from the series which were once available.

There is, however, a far less expensive way to obtain the symphonies complete, from the Austro-Hungarian Haydn Orchestra under Adam Fischer; the whole set comes on just 8 CDs in mp3 format (NI1722) and can be purchased from MusicWeb International for £23.00 post free. The discs can be played directly from any CD, SACD or blu-ray player which offers mp3 playback, but it’s better to drop and drag the files onto a computer hard drive and play them from there.

Dominy Clements in recommending the set went so far as to include graphic print-outs of the same segment of Symphony No.1 from the normal CD and the mp3 version, demonstrating not only that they sound identical but that there is objective evidence to support the point.

The selection listed above comes from that complete set and, although I don’t have access to that mp3 edition on disc, I’ve been listening to some of the symphonies in mp3 sound from the Naxos Music Library and I’m blessed if I can hear any difference between the versions on CD and the mp3 equivalents.

I’ve reviewed the classicsonline.com downloads of Symphonies Nos.1-20 – July 2012/2 Download Roundup – and Symphonies 21-39 and ‘107’-‘108’ (also known as ‘A’ and ‘B’) – July 2009 Download Roundup. Though I could hardly recommend the downloads when they are more expensive (£39.95) than their physical equivalents on 5 CDs (NI5426-30 and NI5683-7 respectively, £23.00 each post free from MusicWeb International), I was able to confirm the high quality of the mp3 sound. So if you are looking for a complete set of the Haydn symphonies that mp3 set, NI1722, looks to me like the best. If, however, you would like to ease yourself into this wonderful music gradually, the ‘Great Haydn Symphonies’ pair of CDs, obtainable from MusicWeb International for £12 post paid, would be an excellent way to dip your toe into the water.

By no means all the Haydn symphonies with a nickname received their nomenclature from Haydn himself, and by no means all of them are accurate. In this case, however, the set of six nicknamed works provides a very useful peg on which to hang a 2-CD set of works from all periods of Haydn’s long productive life. Not only that, but these are six of my own favourites among the composer’s huge symphonic output.

No.6 comes from the earliest period of his tenure with the Esterházy family. It’s one of a series of three linked works, depicting Morning, Noon and Evening, though it stands well enough on its own. Early it may be, but Haydn never really had a period when his music didn’t sound fully accomplished and its appeal is enhanced by the excellent performance which it receives.

Symphony No.45 is the most famous of the Sturm und Drang symphonies from Haydn’s middle period, around 1770. The name Sturm und Drang or storm and stress refers properly to the pre-romantic literature of the period, notably to a series of works by Goethe and Schiller. The story behind the last movement, with the musicians leaving one by one as a hint to their employer that they needed a break, is well known but that doesn’t diminish the power of the music; it remains unhackneyed no matter how many times I must have heard it. Perhaps the performance here doesn’t quite match the power of a Vanguard recording with Antonio Janigro at the helm, which used to be available, but it comes pretty close.

No.48 also comes from the Sturm und Drang period. Its nickname refers to the belief formerly held that it was composed specially for a visit from the empress, Maria Theresa. For some reason she always seems to develop an spurious extra ‘i’ in the name of this symphony, perhaps by false association with the German name Mariatheresien-symphonie. As with No.45, it’s easy to see why the symphonies of this period came to be linked with the literature of the period. My only reservation about Fischer’s performance of this symphony may sound irrational, but the modern horns hit their notes just slightly too comfortably in comparison with period-instrument performances.

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy Fischer’s account of this work, but compare the period-instrument performance from Roy Goodman and the Hanover Band on an inexpensive Hyperion recording (Helios CDH55119, with Nos. 49 and 50, £6.99 or less; £5.99 for mp3 or lossless download: see March 2012/2 Download Roundup) and the extra adventure involved in hitting the right notes adds an extra touch of zest to the performance, as does the inclusion of a just-audible harpsichord. Any one of the budget-price discs from this series might make a useful addition to the Nimbus ‘Great Symphonies’ set; it’s a series that was never quite completed, though it contains recordings from all periods of Haydn’s symphonic output.

If you’ve fallen for the appeal of Haydn in Sturm und Drang mode, Nimbus offer another 2-CD set of Nos. 43, 44, 49, 52, 59 and 64 (here).

Symphony No.82 moves us on several years to Haydn’s visit to Paris in 1785/7. Fischer’s performances of the six symphonies from this period are available on a pair of Nimbus CDs (NI5419-20 - £16.00 post free from MusicWeb International here). The only reservation that I have about recommending the ‘Great Symphonies’ set is that you may well fall for the charms of No.82 and want the whole set. If you doubt the validity of the ‘bear’ nickname for this symphony, Fischer’s growly finale makes it seem thoroughly appropriate, even though it isn’t one of Haydn’s own devising. Here again, only a preference for a period-instrument performance such as Harnoncourt’s Deutsche Harmonia Mundi 3-CD set (82876606022, all repeats observed) or Roy Goodman’s on Hyperion (Nos. 82-4, CDH55123) would be reason to look elsewhere – I’m happy with either approach.

The Oxford Symphony was performed at Haydn’s award of an honorary doctorate by the university, so the title has some validity even though in the end he failed to compose the new work he had intended for the occasion and substituted one that was already well known in England. Simon Rattle’s account of this and other symphonies from the period between the Paris visit and Haydn’s first to London has received critical praise (Nos.88-92 and Sinfonia Concertante, EMI 3942372: Recording of the Month, but I find it too heavy by comparison with the best period performances. You don’t need period instruments, however, to make the symphonies of this period sound well, as Eugen Jochum demonstrated in his BPO recordings of Nos. 88 and 98 and his later LPO set of the ‘London’ Symphonies and as Fischer demonstrates in his version of the Oxford. This is modern-instrument Haydn without the ‘big band’ effect that I find from Rattle and I found it an excellent complement to Roy Goodman’s period-band on Hyperion Helios CDH55125.

The nicknames of Haydn’s symphonies don’t always translate from one language to another. In German No. 94 is known as the Drum Stroke Symphony (mit dem Paukenschlag), so easily confused with what is known in English as the Drum Roll Symphony, No.103. The English nickname, Surprise, like the German, refers to the loud stroke in the slow movement, designed to wake the ladies. I first got to know this symphony from Beecham’s early-1950s Columbia (CBS) performance, once available on the Philips Classical Favourites label – no longer available but his later 1950s remake, still in mono, is on the first of two EMI Gemini 2-CD sets: details below. If Fischer and his team don’t quite recapture the magic of that version – could anyone? – I can’t think of any better recent version.

Hungarian orchestras and conductors seem to have a particularly strong rapport with Haydn – surely it can’t just be due to the fact that he composed for the Esterházy family whose palaces spanned what is now the international border. There used to be several CDs of his music on the Hungaroton White Label which, if reissued at budget price, would still be well worth considering. David Blum recorded several of the symphonies with the Esterházy Orchestra for Vanguard which, like those Hungarotons, I still listen to with pleasure. Intermittently available on CD, there’s a very strong case for the latter especially to be reissued. Despite their Eastern European name, the Esterházy Orchestra are American. Still available, however, and of genuine Hungarian provenance, are the successful recordings which Naxos has made of Haydn symphonies with the Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia and Béla Drahos.

Good as all these are, the Austro-Hungarian Orchestra, drawn from top-flight Austrian and Hungarian players, is best of all. These recordings were made over a period of seven years, during which time the orchestra had three Konzertmeister, or leaders: Rainer Küchl, Erich Binder and Wolfgang Redik. The quality of performance over that period is remarkably consistent.

I’m not suggesting that these are perfect – even if such a thing were possible. I would have liked a little more generosity in the matter of first movement repeats, for example. Without necessarily wishing for every repeat to be observed, as Harnoncourt does in his most recent recording of the Paris Symphonies for Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, I do feel that there’s imbalance in Fischer’s No.82 – Doráti’s, too, for that matter – where the first and second movements are almost exactly the same length and the finale is shorter than either. Goodman strikes a neat compromise by observing the first-movement repeats but not those in the finale (Hyperion Helios CDH55123, with Nos.83 and 84).

Just occasionally, too, I felt that some of Fischer’s ritardandi were slightly artificial, but that’s only if one judges them against those of Thomas Beecham, who somehow manages to make everything he does seem thoroughly natural and Haydnesque, even though he clung to outdated editions which he knew to be erroneous when better texts were already available. See the review of his EMI recordings of the London Symphonies – Bargain of the Month – and my November 2011/1 Download Roundup. Beulah have reissued Beecham’s Symphonies Nos. 101 and 103 – see April 2012/1 Download Roundup.

The recordings are excellent throughout. Even the two earliest here, of Nos. 45 and 94 from 1988, are not at all bad but the later recordings sound even better. With short but valuable notes this inexpensive set is a strong contender.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

EBERL Piano Concertos: in E?, op. 40 1; in C, op. 32 2 • 1 Paolo Giacometti, 2 Riko Fukuda (fp); Michael Alexander Willens, cond; Cologne Academy (period instruments) • CPO 777354 (62:03)


One of these concertos, the C Major, is familiar to me through a 2000 Koch Schwann CD featuring pianist James McChesney with the Slovak Philharmonic Bratislava led by Karl Kemper. Comparison with the current performance is instructive because McChesney’s version is a modern-instrument affair, while this new one uses period instruments or copies thereof. A c.1810 fortepiano by Viennese maker Mathias Müller from the Edwin Beunk collection is pictured on the inside of the booklet’s front page, and since no other instrument is mentioned in the text, I assume this is the one that was used for the recording.


Anton Eberl (1765–1807) has thus far barely made inroads into our musical consciousness. A handful of his works on a couple of CDs has found its way into previous Fanfare reviews, one by Brian Robins, the other by yours truly. Poor Eberl, his music considered second-rate in our time for being too derivative of and inferior to Mozart’s, and considered too good in his own time to be by anyone but Mozart. He had to write a letter to a widely read newspaper assuring the public that he, Eberl, was indeed the legitimate composer of the misattributed works. I wonder if anyone believed him, or if they thought he was a publicity-seeking fraud. Most of his more than 200 works are said to have disappeared, but a number of chamber works, pieces for solo piano, and these concertos remain and have been recorded.


It’s immediately obvious that the two works on this disc follow the pattern of the late 18th-century piano concerto perfected by Mozart. But further listening reveals details in both the scoring for orchestra and the type of keyboard figuration that ought to be clues to the trained ear that Eberl is closer to Beethoven than he is to Mozart. In the matter of scoring, Eberl’s approach to the orchestra is on a grander scale, making particularly bold use of horns and trumpets to articulate entrances and exits. Listen, for example, to the trumpet flourishes at the end of the first movement of the E?-Concerto. Passages for winds are also more extensive and more elaborate.


In the matter of keyboard figuration, Eberl doesn’t fall back on Alberti-bass left-hand patterns as often as Mozart does, and Beethoven-like passages in octaves and thirds appear more often than they do in Mozart. It would be a mistake, however, to conclude that Eberl is somehow a missing link between Mozart and Beethoven, for both of his concertos performed here were completed in 1804, nine and seven years, respectively, after Beethoven’s Second and First concertos. Given that, it’s likely that Eberl heard Beethoven’s concertos and was more influenced by them than he was by Mozart’s, which by then already belonged to an earlier era.


These performances are absolutely wonderful. The fortepiano can sound a little opaque in the lower middle register and bass, but its upper range sparkles. Comparing Willens’s reading of the C-Major Concerto with Riko Fukuda to that by Kemper with McChesney, I am really surprised by the difference in interpretive approach. Kemper/McChesney is much faster in all three movements—too fast, I think—than Willens/Fukuda: 12:18, 8:42, 8:45 vs. 14:09, 10:20, 10:02. Ironically, this makes Kemper/McChesney sound more like Mozart and less like Beethoven than the other way around, because Beethoven’s concerto allegros are more allegro moderato and his andantes more adagio than Mozart’s. Even though the Kemper/McChesney is a modern-instrument performance, the Willens/Fukuda has a greater sense of gravity and purposefulness to it.


The comparison applies only to the C-Major Concerto, since the Koch Schwann CD doesn’t couple it with the E?-Major Concerto. Paolo Giacometti’s playing in the latter is every bit as spirited and satisfying as Fukuda’s in the C-Major Concerto. An excellent recording, as is customary for CPO, adds to the strong recommendation for this release.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

This 2-disc set is Paavali Jumppanen’s fourth volume in his cycle of Beethoven piano cycles. This album includes works from the composer’s middle period: Sonatas Nos. 16-18 & 24-27. The first installment in Jumppanen’s Beethoven cycle won the “Choc” Award from French music magazine Classica.

One may rightly claim that Johann Baptist Vanhal (1739-1813), who traced his roots to Bohemia, was one of the most productive composers of the 18th c. + He wrote a total of 1,377 (!) works; sixty string quartets having appeared in print through to 1787, with thirty-six others in manuscript or documented in catalogue entries. + Quantity aside, Vanhal quite early gained fame with the quality of his works. + For CPO, the Lotus String Quartet, which gained notice with its triumph at the Int’l Chamber Music Competition in Osaka, Japan in 1994, interprets a selection of these quartets.

The exhilaration and sense of discovery is utterly infectious.” — International Record Review

“These are performances of enormous drama, delicacy, and zest played with keen attention to expressive and textural nuances.” — Cleveland Plain Dealer

This all-Mozart recording leads with the composer’s darkest Symphony, No. 40 in G minor. American soprano Amanda Forsythe joins the group in a dramatic recitative and virtuoso aria from Lucio Silla, and the disc includes the Ballet Music from Idomeneo, a festive and rarely-heard suite from the last great work in the opera seria tradition. Rounding out the set are four lively and entertaining Contradances.